


Royal Affairs

by bitchin_beskar



Series: Royal Affairs Universe [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingering, King!Din AU, Like A Lot A Lot, PIV Sex, Possessiveness, Pregnancy Kink, Public Sex, Royalty AU, Some angst, but a lot of fluff tho, exhibition kink, found family trope, lots of smut, more tags to come, oral (m and f), unprotected sex (wrap it up kidddies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29451978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchin_beskar/pseuds/bitchin_beskar
Summary: A trained healer, you run a small apothecary in the lower villages on Mandalore, living a perfectly mundane life. Until one day, a small green alien child wanders into your shop and completely changes your life.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Series: Royal Affairs Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163345
Comments: 21
Kudos: 240





	1. A Choice is Made

When you’d gone to bed last night, you certainly weren’t expecting anything momentous to happen today. Today was supposed to be just another day spent running your little apothecary with your sister, before going to sleep and doing it all over again tomorrow. 

But as you stared down at the small little green alien child hiding behind your counter, you knew that today wasn’t going to go the way you planned. 

“Hey, little one,” you murmured, crouching down, but staying far enough back that he wouldn’t feel trapped by you. “How’d you get in here, huh? Where are your parents?”

He looked up at you with his huge round eyes, his little lip quivering, and your heart _broke._

_“Hey,_ it’s alright sweetheart,” you whispered, holding your hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay–” You were a little thrown off when he waddled straight into your arms, and you instinctively clutched him to your chest. He buried his little face into your tunic and began to cry, little heart-wrenching sobs as his tiny body shook in your arms. 

Standing, you quickly moved to the backroom, seeing your sister in the middle of bottling some healing bacta salve. 

“A’denla, can you cover the shop for me?”

She turned, about to ask why when she saw the sobbing child in your arms. You mouthed that you’d explain later, and she just nodded, turning and heading for the counter, leaving you alone in the back with the little one. 

You rocked the little baby back and forth, humming softly as you tried to get him to calm down. You didn’t have a whole lot of experience with children, but you knew enough from helping watch the children of other villagers while they ran their shops when you were younger. 

His tearful cries eventually slowed to little whimpers and hiccups, and you were able to encourage him to detach from your shirt. He rubbed at his eye with his little arm, and you were startled to see a dark green, almost _black_ bruise on his tiny wrist. 

“Who hurt you, little one?” You gently took his hand, inspecting the bruise. He whimpered when you brushed your fingers over his skin. “I bet that hurts something fierce, huh?” 

You take him over to where your sister had the bacta salve out, setting him down gently on the countertop. “Can I use some of this, sweetheart? It’ll help you heal faster.” You’re not sure if he can understand you, but then he takes a long moment to look at the little bottle of blue gel you’re holding before looking up at you, solemnly nodding, his big ears flapping a little with the motion. 

You step away to wash your hands, grabbing a small strip of gauze as well. Dipping your fingers into the salve, you gently brush it over his bruise, your heart twisting every time his little features scrunch up in pain. Once his arm is sufficiently covered, you carefully wrap the gauze around the bruise, securing it with a small clip. 

He looks at his arm before looking back at you, cooing, a wide smile on his face, showing off his baby teeth. His arms raise in the universal sign for “up please!” and you’re unable to deny him, scooping him up in your arms, and cradling him once more to your chest. 

Pressing his face against your skin with a contented sigh, he nuzzles against you for a moment before you feel his breathing begin to even out. “It must be exhausting being so little, huh?” 

You carry him over to the small bassinet you have set up for when you’re watching your brother’s baby girl when he’s busy. The little child fits easily in the small padded space, and you carefully cover him up before stepping back. You have no idea how he got to your shop, and he’s not exactly a race you recognize. Hopefully his parents are somewhere nearby, otherwise you’re going to have a hard time finding them. Although, you’d noticed that his bruises seemed to be in the shape of a hand, and you really didn’t want to place him back into the arms of abusers. 

The tinkling of a bell rang through the shop, signaling the arrival of a customer. You quickly shut the door on the small room with the bassinet, walking towards the counter where your sister is. A’denla isn’t exactly the best with people, and you know she prefers to work in the back, so as soon as you get to the counter, you nudge her away so that she can go back to packaging up products. 

She gives you a grateful smile, ducking into the back as you turn to face two of perhaps the strangest customers you’ve ever met. One is a Rodian, which isn’t necessarily odd in of itself, but usually they tend to stay away from Mandalore. Most Mandalorians aren’t exactly known for their tolerance towards other races. The other appears to be human, but you’ve learned to not judge people by their outward appearances. 

“We’re looking for our bounty,” the Rodian grunts in Huttese, and your eyes widen a bit. Bounty hunters. You should’ve known. You’re also surprised that Huttese is the language he chose, especially considering the two main languages on Mandalore were Mando’a and Basic. Luckily for him, you’ve always been a fan of learning different languages, and you understand basic Huttese. “It got away from us. It’s very dangerous. Have you seen it?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What does your bounty look like?”

The other hunter chimes in, this time in Basic. “It’s fifty years old but looks like a child. Some weird green frog-like thing with big ears. It’s incredibly dangerous, and you need to tell us right now if you’ve seen it.”

You manage to school your features, but internally, you’re _shocked_ . Their bounty is the little green child you just patched up and is now sleeping in your backroom? And he’s _fifty_? 

Something about the way the two hunters are acting strikes you as odd, and you make a split-second decision. You lie. 

“I’ve not seen any creatures like that,” your voice is smooth and calm, betraying nothing. “But I’ve been in my shop all day. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

For a moment, you think they don’t believe you, but the human quickly nods, grasping his fellow hunter's arm and tugging him out of your shop. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, sagging a little as the door swung shut. 

You ducked back to the backroom, seeing your sister waiting with her arms crossed. 

“You wanna tell me why you just lied outright to two bounty hunters?” She hissed, eyes flashing. “Do you know how _kriffing_ stupid that was?” 

You stared blankly at her. “Do you really think I’d lie to _bounty_ _hunters_ without a damn good reason?” Your voice was incredulous. “I’m not a _di’kut_ , A’denla.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Alright, what’s the reason then?” 

You sighed, slumping against one of the tables. “They said their bounty is fifty years old, but the little one who came into our shop? He’s a _baby_ A’denla. He _may_ be fifty, but it’s clear he doesn’t age the same as us! What could a baby do to warrant a _bounty_ ? He was _hurt,_ and he was hurt _badly_ . He was _sobbing_ and _shaking_ and it’s clear he was _terrified_. I wasn’t about to hand him over to the bounty hunters who probably hurt him that bad in the first place!”

A’denla looks shocked at your little outburst, before softening slightly. She’s got a soft spot for little kids too, and you know she wouldn’t be okay with handing a child over to bounty hunters. 

“Fine, but if this brings hell down on us, I’m telling _buir_ it was your fault, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed a basket of products, and went back out front to restock the shelves.

* * *

The little one had slept for a couple of hours, but now he was wide awake, and demanding your attention. You’d done your best to keep him occupied out of sight in case the bounty hunters came back, but so far, the coast had been clear. 

The door suddenly burst open, and Vyshena rushed inside. She owned a shop a couple of doors down that sold mechanical parts, so she was a regular, often needing basic medical supplies to patch herself up after being a little too careless with a socket wrench. 

“What do you need to–” You started, only to be cut off as Vyshena practically flung herself onto the counter, her grease-stained fingers gripping the wood lightly. 

“Did you _hear_?!” 

You almost winced at the squeal, and you felt little claws dig into your legs. You looked down, to see the child grasping your leg, his ears drooping as he looked up at you with sorrowful eyes. 

“Did I hear _what_ , Vys?”

You bent down to pick up the little one, smoothing one hand over his ear as Vys started in on a rant.

“ _The King_ is coming! Apparently his kid went missing and he’s tracking him down! Y’know, he used to be a bounty hunter, so it only makes sense that he’d track his own kid down, apparently there’s a _bounty_ from the _Empire_ on the little guy and–”

You looked up as Vys suddenly stopped, and your brow furrowed as she made a choking sound, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at you. 

“And _what,_ Vys?”

Instead of answering, her arm raised shakily, pointing at the little bundle you held on your hip. Her mouth was gaping, and she looked like she was about to pass out. 

“Vys, are you alright?”

Her eyes flickered between your face and the kid multiple times before she sucked in a gasp. “WHAT?”

You actually flinched back at her sudden shout, and the kid whimpered, burying his face in your side. 

“Vys!”

“I’m sorry, but how do you– where did– HOW DID YOU GET THE KING’S KID??”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“YOU HEARD ME!”

“What is all this racket about– oh, hi Vys.” A’denla came out from the back, her hands full of bottled bacta salve. “What’s going on?”

Vys sputtered, and so you mumbled “Apparently this is the King’s son?” As you gesture to the giggling baby on your hip.

A’denla’s jaw dropped, and she nearly dropped the bacta salve. “Are you _kidding_ me??”

You shook your head, feeling faint, and Vys started laughing hysterically, which got the little one going too. “Not helping,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile at how happy the little one looked.

“ _Maker_ , what are we gonna _do_?”

Your sister’s moan was mostly drowned out by the giggling, but you frowned thoughtfully. “Vys, hold him please,” you said, handing her the still laughing child, even as your request caused her to audibly shut her mouth. You rummaged through the drawers behind the counter before you found a spare sheet of paper and a pen. A’denla tried to see what you were doing but you waved her off, writing as fast as you could.

“There,” you muttered, folding up the paper, handing it to Vys in exchange for the kid. “Take this to one of the guards. They should be able to get it to the King quickly enough. It states that his son is safe, and here in the apothecary. We’re gonna close early just as an added precaution.”

Vys nodded, and you turned to A’denla. “I also wrote what I could remember about the two bounty hunters who came in, they’re probably the ones who kidnapped the kid to begin with.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” your sister sighed. “ _Maker_ , am I glad you lied to them when they asked about the kiddo.”

“Me too.” You turned back to Vys. “Go, get that to a guard. I’ll wait here.”

Vys nodded shakily, still a little pale, but she dashed out of the shop. A’denla opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly.

“Go on, spit it out.”

She shook her head. “ _Buir_ is never gonna believe this.” You snickered, imaging your mother’s face when she found out that the _King_ _of Mandalore’s_ son had wandered into your apothecary.

“You should go home and tell her. I’d hate for her to hear about this from someone else.” A’denla looked worried, but you shook her off. “I’m closing the store anyways. It’s not like I won’t need your help.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes, _go_.”

After a little more persuading, A’denla finally left, leaving you and the little one alone in the shop. He was still perched on your hip, and for a moment, you stood in the middle of the store, mind racing.

“I can’t believe you’re actually the King’s son,” you muttered, looking down at the wide-eyed child. “Just my luck, huh?”

He cooed at you, playing with the fabric of your top. Your eyes fell to the gauze wrapped around his arm, and you sighed. “I guess we better check on that, buddy. Make sure you’re healing alright.”

Just like before, he was a good patient, not too squirmy as you carefully unwound the gauze. His bruise was healing nicely, and you carefully applied a little more bacta for good measure, re-wrapping his arm. Right as you were pinning it in place, a loud banging sounded from the front door.

You jumped, hand flying to your chest. Carefully picking the kid up, you made your way to the door, peering through the curtains, eyes widening as you realized just who was standing there.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open, stepping to the side to let the odd-looking group inside.

You recognized Fennec Shand, a notorious bounty hunter and partner to Boba Fett, who was also a part of the group. Both were known for their close relationship to the King. There was a woman you didn’t recognize, but judging by the small tattoo on her upper cheek, she had ties to the Republic.

Finally, clad in full _beskar’gam_ , was the King. His beskar was unpainted, the silver gleaming in the low light of your shop. He had no shortage of weapons, his spear was strapped to his back, and a blaster and various vibroblades were strapped to his legs. But the most prominent was the Darksaber that hung from his belt.

Dropping into a curtsy, you bowed your head in respect, a quiet “ _my king_ ,” leaving your lips. You’d heard stories about the King, about his strength and speed in battle, but especially from his time as a bounty hunter. He’d been one of, if not _the_ best bounty hunter in the galaxy, before winning the Darksaber from Maul in a duel, granting him the right to the throne of Mandalore.

Some said he was cruel, terrifying and dangerous, not to mention volatile. You had no way of knowing. He wasn’t one for major public appearances, so knowledge on his true personality was reserved for those closest to him.

There was a tense silence for a moment when suddenly, the child on your hip reached his little arms out towards the King, babbling loudly. He had a large smile on his face and was wriggling desperately to get out of your grasp. 

The King took a step forward, his own hands stretching out towards his son. You carefully handed the child over, your bare hands brushing over the King’s leather gloves as you transferred the little one to his father’s arms. 

“ _Su’cuy, ad’ika_.” 

The King’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he pressed his helmet against the little one’s brow, his hand pressing against the child’s back to hold him close. 

You fold your arms in front of you, absently noting the way that you already miss the comforting weight of the kid on your hip. You look away from the King and his son, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

The others seem a little uncomfortable, like you, and thankfully, the woman you don’t know breaks the awkward silence. 

“You said in your note that you had two bounty hunters come looking for him?”

You’re looking at the woman, so you don’t notice the way the King’s head whips in your direction, nor the way his hand falls to rest on the hilt of the Darksaber. 

“Mmhmm, a Rodian and a human.” You pause. “Actually, I’d almost forgotten, we had security cameras installed about a month ago, they should be on the holos.”

“Why bother with security cameras?” Fett cut in, and you were taken aback by the blatant suspicion in his voice. “This isn’t exactly a high crime area.”

You sighed. “We had a break in a couple of months ago. Some _di’kut_ took off with half our supply of bacta salve. We’re one of the only apothecaries on Mandalore licensed to make it, and unfortunately, that usually means we have a large stock, and the prices are pretty steep.” 

“You didn’t report it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the accusatory tone. “I figure if someone’s going to go to all that trouble just to steal bacta salve and not even touch the register or safe, they probably needed it. It’s diluted when it’s in a salve, so it can’t be sold on the black market, unlike pure bacta.” 

“What’s this?”

You started at the King’s voice, turning to look in his direction, seeing him inspecting the gauze wrapped around the little one’s arm. You frowned. “The little one had a pretty bad bruise, it was nearly black. I applied some bacta salve and wrapped it. I checked it just before you got here, it looks a lot better.”

“And I suppose you just thought it was okay to–”

“ _Fett_.”

Your eyes widened at the King’s tone, looking away as the green-armored bounty hunter grumbled, but stayed silent. 

“I’m a licensed medic, and I have been for close to ten years now. I know what I’m doing.” Perhaps your voice was a _little_ defensive, but you weren’t going to apologize for easing the kid’s pain, no matter the opinion of grumpy men in beskar. 

“Thank you.”

You nodded at the King, eyes flicking up to his helmet before looking away, your cheeks growing warm. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but something about the way he seemed to stare directly into your soul, even through the beskar made you feel... odd.

He handed the little one to the woman with the tattoo, before turning back to you. “May I see the holos?”

You nodded again, turning and walking towards the back of the shop, where the holos were stored. It wasn’t a large room, an old refurbished closet really, and it was a bit tight for one person, let alone a second covered in beskar. You opened up the data station and pulled up the holos from earlier, trying to ignore the silent mountain of a man behind you. You could _feel_ his eyes on your back, and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. 

You found the correct timestamp, and enlarged the holovid, pointing to the figures on the screen. “This is when they entered.”

Suddenly, there was a large warm hand on the small of your back as the King stepped up behind you, his other hand coming down to rest on the surface of the table, caging you in as he leaned forward. He was peering over your shoulder, and you inadvertently sucked in a breath at the sudden closeness. 

The two of you watched the footage in silence. Unfortunately, you didn’t have audio to go with the holos, so all the King would have to go off of is the visual. 

“Is there anything distinctive about them that you can remember?” He murmured, the rasp of his helmet’s modulator doing nothing to hide the exquisite way his voice sounded in your ear. 

“Um–” You trailed off, trying to focus, which was especially hard with the King _so kriffing close_ . “Uh, the Rodian? He spoke Huttese.” You could’ve smacked yourself. Of _course_ the Rodian spoke Huttese, it was a common language bounty hunters learned, and Rodian’s were known for speaking it along with their native Rodese. 

The King let out a sigh, and just as you were about to apologize, he _thanked_ you. 

“That– that helps. Thank you, very much.” His hand pressed a little more into your back, and you fought the urge to arch into his touch. You weren’t some _child_ with a _crush_ damn it, you were a village shopkeeper and he was your _king_ . It would be entirely inappropriate, although your traitorous mind was quick to remind you that _his_ touching you could be considered inappropriate as well. 

You told your mind to _shut the hell up_. 

“You’re welcome, my king.” 

There, that was a perfectly respectable answer. Now all you had to do was avoid embarrassing yourself any further, and–

“Please, darling. Call me Din.”

Well, there went that plan. 

You bit your lip and looked down at the keyboard, hoping that the King– _Din,_ didn’t see your hands tighten at the sound of his voice when he called you _darling_. 

“Can you give me a copy of these holovids?” 

You nodded, grateful for something, _anything_ to distract you from the peculiar man at your back. Copying the holos onto a drive unfortunately didn’t take very long, and when you turned to hand them to the Ki– _Din_ , your eyes widened when you realized just _how_ close he was to you. Your chests were practically touching, and you had to tilt your head up to be able to look at his helmet, which was aimed directly at you. 

He carefully took the drive, tucking it into one of the pockets on his belt, before stepping back, crossing one arm over his chest and _bowing_ . To _you._

“You’ve done me a great service. I won’t forget it.” 

You swallowed harshly. For a moment, it had sounded like he’d said “I won’t forget _you_ ,” although it had to be wishful thinking on your part. He was your _King_ , you were so far removed from royalty it wasn’t even _funny._ He was just being polite. 

“I’m just glad you were able to reunite with your son. He seems to love you a lot.”

“His name is Grogu. I was blessed with him as my foundling, and I treasure him greatly.”

You smiled. It was clear as day how much the King loved his son, and how the little one returned those feelings tenfold. To be blessed with a foundling was a great honor, and it didn’t surprise you one bit that your King had been blessed in such a way. 

He stepped back to make space for you to leave the small room, and you hurried to where the others were undoubtedly waiting, only just now realizing how long the two of you had been gone.

Fett and Shand were gone by the time you got back to the main floor of your shop. Just the woman and the little one–Grogu–stood there waiting. The King easily plucked Grogu from the woman’s grasp, and with a tight nod, she left your shop as well, leaving you alone with the King and his son. 

He turned back to you, his helmet once more trained on your face. “I must thank you again, for everything.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the gratitude dripping from his words. “It was nothing, my king,” you murmured, curtsying once more. 

As you slowly straightened back up, the King reached out and ever so gently lifted your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. You were forced to look at him, even as the fluttering in your stomach renewed with _vigor_.

“I’ve already told you, darling. Call me Din.” 


	2. Consequences Will Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summons to the palace has you wondering if maybe you left more of an impression on your King than you'd thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! I just wanted to make this clear, so there's no confusion!! this is an AU, which means it's an alternate universe. In this universe, Mandalore never fell to the Empire. I'll go into more depth in later chapters about the lore of this world, but just know that this story is taking place on Mandalore, and all of the main characters are Mandalorians.

It’s late by the time you get back to the small housing unit you share with your sister and your  _ buir _ . You’d spent hours doing mindless chores around the shop, unable to keep still, lest your mind start to wander to the  _ guests _ you’d entertained earlier. It feels like a fever dream, something you can only half-recall, and when you try, you grow hot and dizzy and altogether  _ exhausted _ . 

Your family  _ should _ be asleep, but when the door slides open, your sister and mother are sitting at the table, waiting for you with a glass of spotchka. A’denla looks up sharply as you walk in, worry written into the crease of her brow. Your mother doesn’t carry her worries visibly, but you can see in the way her eyes rove over you, checking for injuries, that she’s been just as worried as A’denla. 

“ _ Where _ have you been?! Do you  _ know  _ how late it is?!?”

Your sister is out of her seat and in front of you before you can blink, her hands gripping your upper arms as she does so, shaking you slightly. You  _ know _ she’s just worried about you, but you’re exhausted, and the minute you’d gotten home and stopped moving, your mind began to wander, just like you’d hoped to avoid. 

“Did he get your message? The gossip has been  _ flying _ , did the King  _ actually  _ come to the shop?”

You blink tiredly, your exhausted brain only able to focus on one thing. 

“His name is Din.”

There’s a beat of silence. A’denla’s hands drop from your arms. Then, your mother’s sharp voice pierces you like a vibroblade. 

“ _ What. Did. You. Just. Say. _ ”

Your head swivels towards her, and you can actually  _ see _ fear in her eyes. You frown. “He told me... to call him Din... twice.” Your sentence would hold more weight if you didn’t stop to  _ yawn _ twice in the middle.  _ Stars _ , how are you so tired?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see A’denla’s mouth drop. You yawn a third time, covering your mouth with your hand. There’s a little niggling in the back of your head telling you that you should be worried about this too, what it means for the  _ King _ to ask for a peasant shopkeeper to call him by his name, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re less than twenty feet from your bed. 

Your mother is muttering something to herself, and you think you catch something along the lines of “ _ Maker _ , give me patience” but you can’t be sure. You just want to  _ sleep,  _ for  _ kriffing _ sake. 

“Go to bed, daughter. You look exhausted.” You weakly nod your head, already liking where this is going. “ _ But _ , we are going to talk come morning.”

You  _ hear _ the words your mother says, but they don’t really register as you’re already stumbling towards your room. Your sister’s voice picks up behind you as she starts to bicker with your mother, but you’re already falling into bed, asleep before your head hits the pillow. 

* * *

Unfortunately, morning doesn’t bring you any peace and quiet like you were hoping for. 

As soon as you were even halfway conscious, your mother had practically dragged you to the kitchen table, shoving you into a seat as she began pacing the length of the room. She was clearly agitated, and you didn’t have to wait long to find out why.

“What  _ exactly _ happened yesterday, daughter? First, rumors are flying that the King’s son ended up in  _ your  _ store,  _ then _ there are the rumors that the  _ King _ himself visited, and then you come home half asleep, muttering about the King’s given name?! What in the name of the Maker possessed you, child? Do you  _ know _ how much trouble we could get in with you just throwing the name of the  _ King _ around like he’s some... some....”

Your mother’s breath quickens as she rants, raising higher and higher until she’s practically shouting. Her yelling makes you feel about a third of your actual height, small and meek as she scolds you.  _ Stars _ , you  _ knew _ better than to say the King’s name out loud, it was the  _ height _ of disrespect! And coming from someone of your station? If anyone other than your mother or sister had heard... 

It didn’t bear thinking about. 

Your  _ buir _ is clearly waiting for an explanation, but just as you open your mouth, a sharp knock sounds at the door. Both of your heads jerk towards the entryway, and for a moment, neither of you move. 

When you go to stand, your mother holds up her hand sharply, gesturing for you to stay put. You feel shame rising in your cheeks at the way she’s treating you, like you’re still a child, but given last night, you can’t entirely blame her.

You’re only half listening as she answers the door, but when she calls your name loudly, her voice shaky, you jerk out of your seat, practically running to the door to see what’s wrong, only to draw up short when you see the woman standing there.

“I’m Cara Dune. I’m an advisor to the King,” she informs your mother, bending in a short, sharp bow of respect, causing your mother’s eyes to widen. “I’ve been sent to collect your daughter.” She turns to you. “Our King requests your presence at the palace.”

You have to physically stop yourself from twisting your hands in your skirt nervously. “Di– Did the King say  _ why _ ?” You ask, heart racing as you try to remember every little detail about your interaction with him yesterday. Did you offend him in some way, and he’s only now punishing you for it? Does he think you lied to him about the bounty hunters? Does–

“Your presence is requested.”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. Even though it is framed as a request, all three of you are well aware of the fact that a summons by the King is  _ not _ something to be turned down lightly. 

“Come on.” Cara turns and stalks out the door, her steps heavy and loud in the tense silence of your house. Your mother is staring at you with this indescribable expression, but when you make to step past her, she grips your arm tightly, causing you to turn to look at her.

“If you’ve done  _ anything _ –”

The threat hangs in the air, and you nod shakily. She doesn’t even need to finish her statement. You understand her meaning perfectly clear. Whatever problems you’ve caused need to be  _ fixed _ , or else. Your family doesn’t need the displeasure of the King of Mandalore hanging over your heads. 

She lets you go and you follow Cara out the door, wishing you had a moment to change into something more presentable. You’re just in a simple dress meant for working around the house, not for audiences with royalty. Unfortunately, you doubt Cara is going to want to wait, and the quicker you get through this inevitable disaster, the better.

There’s a speeder waiting to take you both to the palace. Cara’s already waiting, so you gingerly step inside. 

“Never been in a speeder before?”

You don’t have to look at her to know she’s looking at you with  _ that  _ look. The one all the higher-born give those born into a lower station, the peasants. “My family has never exactly been in a position to afford a ride in a speeder, much less own one of our own.”

Cara hums, and gestures for the speeder to start. You feel the engines rumbling beneath your feet and the speeder starts up, gliding smoothly above the ground as you begin to make your way out of the lower levels and up towards the palace.

You can’t help but look around, entranced by the way the buildings shift, from dingy, rundown stores and homes to sleek, shining high-rises and elegant towers seemingly constructed purely of transparisteel. You’ve never been out of the village before, so this was all completely unfamiliar, and you were even more self-conscious of your appearance. It was clear you didn’t belong here.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Cara said suddenly, and you looked over at her incredulously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Din so tongue-tied before.”

_The King?_ _Speechless? Because of you?!_

“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” you whispered, looking down at your hands.  _ Maker _ , your  _ buir _ would  _ kill you _ if you brought such unnecessary and unwanted attention to yourself. It wasn’t proper for a peasant to be drawing the attention of anyone above their station,  _ especially _ the King himself. It didn’t matter how it had felt when he’d spoken to you, nor how his hand had felt on your back when he’d stood behind you in your shop. Peasants had been  _ killed _ in the past for less scandalous acts than you’d engaged in.

“You’re very pretty.” Your head jerked up at Cara’s blunt words. “I’m not surprised Din is so drawn to you.”

Oh  _ Maker _ , he thought you were  _ pretty _ ?

Cara just chuckled, terror and embarrassment clear on your features as you gripped your skirts tightly. This was  _ not _ good. 

“It’s not  _ proper _ .”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and Cara suddenly stopped laughing. You flinched, worried that you’d offended her when she suddenly covered your hands with her own. 

“Din doesn’t care about  _ propriety.  _ He was a bounty hunter before he became the King. The same people who look down on you for being a shopkeeper looked down on him as just a dumb mercenary.” You slowly raised your head, meeting Cara’s surprisingly comforting gaze. “And now, they all grovel at his boots, hoping that he’s forgotten how they treated him before he won the Darksaber.”

She pauses again, her hands tightening over yours. “Din doesn’t care about money or expensive gowns or connections. None of those things could impress him more than when he saw how you’d genuinely cared for his son. You didn’t know he was the King’s son, you didn’t  _ care _ . You just saw a hurt child and took him in.  _ That  _ is why Din was so entranced with you.”

You were silent for a moment, mulling over her words, before something struck you as odd. “W–Wait,  _ was _ ? What do you mean by that?”

Cara’s soft grin suddenly turned wicked. Your eyes widened at the pure glee and mischief in her eyes. “Well, then he _met_ you.” She waggled her brows, looking you up and down, a dirty smirk wide on her lips. “Now he’s entranced for a whole _other_ reason.”

The innuendo was clear in her voice, and you felt your cheeks heat rapidly. She  _ had _ to be joking. There was no way that the King found  _ you _ attractive. It just wasn’t possible. You’d spent your entire life being told how plain you looked, by your  _ buir _ , and the children you’d grown up with. Your sister and Vys had tried to tell you otherwise, but you knew they were just trying to make you feel better after yet another boy taunted that you’d never find someone who wanted you.

Mandalorians were well known for their passion and intense desire. It wasn’t unheard of for couples to say their vows in their late teens, with females often pregnant before their twentieth year. Children were revered in your culture, and men and women alike dreamed of starting families, raising  _ ad’ike _ and ensuring the continuation of the Mandalorian way of life. 

Even though you weren’t that old in terms of lifecycles, you were much older than was typical for starting a family. Your sister had married young, but her husband had died only a year and a half after their union, and she’d chosen not to find a new  _ riddur _ . Your brother has been married for close to twenty years now. But you’d never come close to finding someone you wanted to spend your life with. Not that your family hadn’t tried to fix that. 

But you didn’t want to marry someone just so that you could pop out a few children so that you could be seen as “doing your duty for the betterment Mandalore.” You just wanted a  _ riddur _ who would respect and love you, but it seemed that it wasn’t meant to be. The few boys you’d let get close to you had been absolute  _ di’kuts _ , cocky and rude, demanding you submit to them and give up everything to please them, so you’d given up. 

“I’m not the kind of woman to inspire those kinds of thoughts in a man,” you muttered, missing the suggestive smirk Cara sent your way. 

“ _ You’ll see _ ,” she whispered, turning back to watch as you approached the palace.

* * *

Cara had marched through the grand hallways of the palace with an air of authority that stunned you. Even though her outfit made her look out of place in the sleek and elegant palace rooms and halls, her absolute confidence radiated out, filling the rooms with her presence. 

You just followed along behind, silently grateful for the fact that the palace seemed to be empty. Cara seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you followed her through all the turns, hopelessly lost. You’d never be able to find your way out of here by yourself, which made you feel a little uncomfortable, but you tried not to dwell on it. 

As you made your way down yet  _ another _ hallway, you started to hear what sounded like grunts, along with repeated clangs of metal hitting metal. Eyes wide, you almost asked Cara what it was you were hearing when she turned, a grin on her face. 

“We’re here.”

She pushed open a door, and the grunts and clangs grew louder as the two of you entered what looked to be a training room. There was a large mat in the center of the room, with seating off to one side. There was specialized equipment lining the other sides, for what you assumed was different exercise routines. You first noticed little Grogu, seated on the stands. He turned when the door opened, and his little coo reached your ears as he clambered down, waddling over to you as fast as he could. 

You’d thought he was running to Cara, but when he ran straight past her and collided with your legs, your eyes widened. He gripped the fabric of your skirts in his little claws, his big, beautiful eyes begging for you to pick him up. 

Without thinking you bent over and scooped him up, settling him on your hip. You looked up to see Cara grinning. “He missed you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait,  _ what _ ?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He really didn’t want to leave your shop last night. He pouted all day until Din told him you were coming.” Your heart  _ melted _ , looking down at the little one who was snuggling into your side. 

There was a loud smack, and you looked up suddenly to see a  _ huge _ shirtless man falling back onto the mat, the beskar staff falling to the ground next to him. Another man, also shirtless, stood over the fallen fighter, his own beskar staff secure in his grasp. 

A quiet gasp left your mouth, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. The man with his back to you was clearly in excellent shape, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his shoulders broad and muscled. His dark hair curled at the ends as it brushed the nape of his neck. His legs were clad in a pair of black pants, tight enough to show the muscles of his thighs and calves. You’d never seen a more attractive man, and you hadn’t even seen his  _ face _ . The man on the ground was attractive as well, big and hulking and covered in tattoos, but your eyes kept flitting back to the victor of the fight.

You didn’t see the gleeful look Cara shot you, as she watched your eyes widen and your breath hitch when you saw the two fighters. Maybe if you’d seen her look, you would have been better prepared for what came out of her mouth.

“Din! Paz! We’ve got a guest, you nerf herders!”

Her yell was loud enough to cover the gasp of shock as you realized just who the shirtless men  _ were _ . You recognized Paz, the general of Mandalore’s fighting corps, even though you’d never seen him. Gossip about him and his abilities had reached even the lower villages, and his tattoos were legendary. But it was the other man who still held your attention. The King.

He turned, his eyes landing on you and Cara, standing near the door. His gaze focused on you, and you felt your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. You’d thought his armour was intimidating, but actually looking him in the eyes was far more so. A slow smile spread across his lips, and he began to move towards the three of you. 

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and not the glistening skin of his bare chest. As he approached, Cara leaned in, plucking Grogu from your arms and whispering “have fun!” before turning and making her way towards Paz. Your eyes widened as she left your side, before you forced yourself to sink into a curtsy as the King came to a stop in front of you.

“My king,” you whispered, standing upright, but keeping your head bowed. You had no idea why you’d been summoned, and you were practically trembling with worry.

He was silent for a moment when suddenly, he reached out, lightly gripping your chin as he coaxed your head up, his eyes dark as he captured your gaze. 

“I thought I asked you to call me Din?” His voice was soft, soothing, and yet you felt shame. Your king wanted one thing, but you knew what propriety demanded, even if it meant disobeying his direct order. 

“It’s not proper, my king. I have no right to speak your name–”

He shushed you softly, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw. “If you truly do not wish to use my name, I will not force you, darling.” Your eyes widened at his words, shocked. Here you were,  _ outright disobeying _ a direct order from your  _ King,  _ and he was  _ okay _ with that?

“But I dearly wish you would,” he continued, watching your face closely. “My name sounds so sweet, falling from your lips. I would ask you to humor me, at least when we’re alone.”

You inhaled sharply at his words, feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. He was looking at you so earnestly, and his hand was warm against your neck. You’d never had  _ anyone _ look at you like this, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

“It’s not proper for me to address so informally,” You started, pausing to take a deep breath. “ _ But _ , if you desire for me to use your name in private, then... I–I suppose I can humor you.” You paused once more. “ _ Din _ .”

The soft smile that spreads across his face is  _ dazzling _ . 

“Thank you, darling.” He murmurs, releasing your jaw and taking your hand in his, gently pressing a kiss to the back of it. You felt your cheeks warm. The effect this man was having on you was one you’d never experienced before, and it was clear he knew just what kind of effect he had on you. 

His eyes ran up and down your figure unashamed, and you were surprised to see a pleased smirk on his face as he looked at you. You’d never had someone look at you with such desire, and it brought on a dizzying feeling. You looked away, unused to such feelings and attention.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Din said, brushing his fingers across your cheek, turning your face back towards his. “Has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

You were sure he could feel your burning cheeks underneath his fingertips. You slowly shook your head, wanting to look away out of embarrassment, but his dark gaze held you firm. 

“Well they should,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “You struck me speechless yesterday.” He chuckled, his dark hair falling gently over his brow. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth, worrying the flesh out of nervousness. You’d never been this close to a man, let alone a half-dressed one.

Your breath suddenly hitched as his thumb moved to brush over your lower lip, pulling it from between your teeth. His gaze was heavy, looking at you as though you were something precious, something to be desired. 

The trance was suddenly broken by a loud yell from behind Din. 

“Djarin! I want a rematch!”

You’d jerked at the sudden sound, but Din only sighed, his eyes sliding shut as he stood before you, your face still cradled in his palm. He opened his eyes again, smiling softly at you. 

“Have you ever seen a sparring match before?” When you shook your head, he gestured to the seats behind you. “Stay. Watch.”

He released you, turning and stalking back towards Paz, leaving you standing there with a warm face and fluttering in your stomach. You were dazed, and caught off-guard when Cara suddenly appeared back at your side, with Grogu in her arms. 

“Come on, the kid likes to watch too.”

She all but dragged you to the seats, pulling you down next to her and plopping the little one onto your lap. Automatically, your arms came up around him, but you were still lost, your gaze still unfocused as you tried to make sense of the conversation that had just taken place.

You watched as Din and Paz centered themselves on the mat, falling into stances, with their staffs held at the ready. Muscles tense, the two men were still for a few moments, before they suddenly sprung into action. The  _ clangs _ as their staffs collided were loud, and you watched, wide-eyed as the two men fought ferociously.

“Good, isn’t he?”

You just nodded dumbly, unable to take your eyes off of the sight in front of you. Cara chuckled, leaning forward and bracing her arms on her legs as she watched alongside you.

“You ever learn how to fight?”

You scoffed. “No. I’m a female shopkeeper from the lower villages. The most I was ever taught was how to run away and scream for help.” Unfortunately, unless you joined the fighting corps, most of those in the lower villages weren’t concerned with teaching women how to defend themselves. Your mother had always balked at the idea that you should learn how to fight, insisting that your husband would be able to take care of you, ignoring the fact that you still weren’t married. 

Cara shrugged. “I bet Din’d teach you if you asked.” 

A choking sound left your mouth, and Cara laughed.

* * *

“Your center of gravity is  _ here _ .” 

You stood as still as you could, feeling the warmth of Din’s palm as he pressed against your lower stomach, his bare chest pressed into your back. His breath was hot against your neck, and you swore you could feel the brush of his lips against your skin as he spoke.

His fingers splayed against your bare skin, his other hand gripping your waist. “If you keep your legs  _ spread _ ,” he muttered, using his bare foot to knock your feet apart, forcing your stance wider. “Your center of gravity will be lower, and it’ll be harder to knock you down.”

You nodded, shifting slightly to settle your weight better onto the balls of your feet. Din’s hand squeezed your hip, before he let go and moved to come and stand in front of you. He mimicked your stance, thumping the center of his chest with one fist. 

“Hit me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “ _ What?  _ ”

He rolled his eyes. “I want you to try and knock me down. So, hit me.”

Frowning, you hesitated for a moment. “How am I supposed to knock you down? You’re so much bigger than I am.”

Din chuckled. “I may be bigger, darling, but that usually means I’m going to be slower. Don’t try and use brute force, play to your strengths. You’re smaller than I am, but that doesn’t have to mean that you’re weaker. My center of gravity is here,” he tapped the middle of his chest, at his sternum. “It’s higher up on men, so it’s easier to knock us off our feet. You’re naturally more grounded. Use that to your advantage.”

You nodded, bringing your hands up like Din had shown you. You threw your fist forward, but Din’s hand came up, blocking your punch easily. 

You frowned, and he only grinned. “Try again.”

This time, you tried to punch with your other hand, to throw him off, but Din still blocked your punch. Even though you weren’t surprised, you were still frustrated. 

“Come on, darling. It’s not that hard, just  _ hit me _ .”

His voice is sweetly condescending, and it lights a fire in your core. You can do this. You’ve just gotta  _ hit  _ him.

You throw a punch with your non-dominant hand, and as he goes to block it, you snap your other hand up, nailing him square in the center of his chest. He lets out a grunt, and as he bends over slightly from the force of your punch, you lean over and dart forward, ramming your shoulder into his stomach, knocking him further off-balance. 

He falls back onto the mat, and you follow him down, landing on top of him, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands grip his shoulders, pushing him into the mat. You’re leaning over him, panting, a smug grin on your lips. 

Din is smirking up at you, and you get the odd sensation that even though he’s the one on the ground, pinned under your weight, he’s still in control. 

“There you go, was that  _ so _ hard?”

You scoffed, sitting back, settling onto his lower stomach as you glared down at him. “God, what would it take for you to shut up?”

Din’s still smirking, but he mock-pouts at your words. “Aw, darling, you don’t like how I’m using my mouth?”

You groan, tilting your head back to stare up at the ceiling, annoyed. “Not particularly, no.” You miss the dark look that suddenly appears in Din’s eyes, but you don’t miss the way he abruptly grasps the back of your knees and  _ jerks _ , bringing you up so that your core is centered over his face. You almost lose your balance with the movements, falling forward and bracing your hands on the mat as Din brings your legs up to straddle his face. 

“ _ Din _ ?!” You gasp, your face growing hot as you feel his breath against your core through the thin fabric of your training pants. He just ignores you, ripping both your pants and your underwear in one quick move, his arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down so that you’re riding his face. 

The first touch of his tongue against your folds causes you to whimper, the sensation unfamiliar but  _ so good _ . He’s gentle at first, carefully stroking you with his tongue, but it doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient, his arms tightening on your hips as he pulls you  _ down _ . 

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you shudder, your head falling forward, eyes clenched shut. He seals his lips around your clit and  _ sucks _ , and a high-pitched whine escapes your lips, your thighs trembling as he  _ devours _ you like you’re the sweetest thing in the galaxy. 

Din is relentless, insatiable, fucking you on his tongue, and every time breathy gasps and moans leave your mouth, he goes harder, faster, his fingers gripping your skin so tight you’ll wear the bruises for  _ days. _

“ _ Fuck _ , Din–” You gasp, one of your hands gripping his hair as he grinds you down onto his face. “ _ Please, don’t stop _ –!”

He moans into you as you tug on his hair, and the vibrations are just fuel for the fire that’s burning in your veins. He encourages you to circle your hips, helping you ride his face as he eats you out like you’re the last food he’s ever going to get to eat. You’re not sure how he hasn’t had to stop to breathe, but then he’s suckling on your clit and flicking it with his tongue and you almost  _ scream _ . 

“I–I’m gonna  _ come _ , please,  _ Din _ –!”

He sucks harder and you’re  _ almost there _ , and–

* * *

Your eyes snap open, your whole body tense as you gasp, the fire burning in your belly becoming a raging inferno, and you have to clasp your hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the whole village. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing as you come, legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 

The fingers of your other hand are clenched tightly in the sheets as your hips desperately grind against nothing but air. Tears are leaking out of your eyes and running down your face as you sob brokenly into your hand. You’ve never felt anything so  _ powerful _ , so  _ overwhelming _ . 

As you lay panting on your bed, trembling in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, your heart thumps in your chest as you remember the way Din had looked between your thighs. Groaning, you rolled over, drawing up into a little ball. 

It was just a dream. 

Just a dream.


	3. Galas and Dark Closets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You receive yet another summons, but this time, for a party.

“Hey, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

You’re startled by fingers suddenly snapping in front of your face, and you glance sheepishly at Vys. She’s standing in front of you, hands on her hips as she frowns in your direction.

“A’denla, what’s up with your sister?” Vys calls out, and A’denla comes out of the backroom, shaking her head. 

“I have  _ no _ clue. She’s been like this all morning.” You roll your eyes at the way they talk about you like you’re not even in the room. “It infuriated  _ buir _ , too. It’s like she’s in a daze.”

“Hello? I  _ am _ right here, you know.”

A’denla suddenly rounds on you. “Yes, and you’ve been distant and off all day! Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” You can feel your cheeks heating up and you avert your eyes as you remember why  _ exactly _ you’re so off. “See! Whenever I ask you get that look on your face. Did something happen at the palace yesterday?”

You shook your head. “It’s like I told you and _ buir _ . I just didn’t sleep very well. I’m fine, I promise.”

Vys makes a disbelieving noise, but the two of them stop pestering you, going into the back room. Sighing, you turn back to the books, going through the bulk purchase orders. The numbers are swimming before your eyes, and you’re  _ exhausted _ . But you can’t think about  _ why _ you’re exhausted, or then–

Too late. 

_ Every time _ you close your eyes, your dream from last night flashes vividly behind your eyelids. You clench unconsciously as you remember how  _ good _ it felt, having Din’s tongue pressed against your soaked folds, how he  _ licked _ and  _ sucked _ and–

No. No, you can’t  _ do this _ right now. Besides, how the  _ kriffing _ hell would you know what that  _ actually _ felt like? It’s not like you’ve ever let a man close enough to get that intimate with you. It was a dream. Just a stupid, silly little dream, about a man you should  _ not _ be dreaming about. Under  _ any _ circumstances. 

The bell to the shop tinkles, and you look up grateful for the distraction. At least until you see the customer.

Cara’s grinning at you with a mischievous look in her eye as she saunters up to the counter. Your own eyes widened as she casually leaned against the counter, looking entirely too gleeful to  _ not _ be up to something. 

“Can I help you, Cara?”

Her grin widened. “You can help a mutual friend of ours.”

Your breath hitched as you realized  _ who _ Cara meant when she said ‘mutual friend.’ Your cheeks grew hot, and you looked down at your hands, which were trembling slightly. 

“ _ H–He’s asked for me _ ?”

Your voice was a whisper, but Cara heard you loud and clear.

“There’s a gala tonight. He wants you there, as his personal guest.”

You frowned, sighing. “I  _ can’t _ , Cara. Can you imagine what people would say? I would be the  _ laughingstock _ . I–” Cara cut you off, a short bark of laughter escaping her lips. 

“Do you really think anyone would  _ dare _ say anything about the  _ King’s _ personal guest? Oh, they’ll gossip, sure, but they wouldn’t dare say anything. Even if they do, do you  _ really _ think Din will  _ let _ them talk?”

You shook your head, but another protest was swimming in your mind. “Even if I  _ wanted _ to go, I have nothing to wear.” You gestured to the simple frock you were currently wearing. “I barely have any clothing that isn’t stained with different herbs and salves, let alone something to wear to a royal  _ gala _ .”

To your surprise, Cara began to chortle. She was half bent over, arms wrapped around her stomach as she laughed. She finally straightened up, a smirk on her lips. “Oh honey, you don’t have to worry about an outfit. Din’s already taken care of that.” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and you sucked in a nervous breath. “I– I suppose I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

Cara’s eyes softened. “You  _ always _ have a choice.” She paused and reached out to take one of your hands. “It’s not an order. But I know Din wants you there, with him.”

You stared at Cara’s hand on yours, teeth toying with your lip as you debated. You really  _ shouldn’t  _ go. You  _ shouldn’t _ –

“I’ll come.”

Your voice was surprisingly steady and calm, even though you felt anything but. Cara’s face lit up at your answer, and she clapped her hands together once. 

“Excellent. Let’s go.”

“What, now?”

She nodded, and you just sighed. “Give me a minute.”

You ducked into the back room. “A’denla? Vys?” 

Your sister and friend looked up from where they were seated at one of the tables. 

“Yeah, sis?”

You sighed. “I’m going to be leaving, I need you to close the shop up later tonight. And let  _ buir _ know I won’t be home until late.”

A’denla raised an eyebrow. You never left early, and you were  _ never _ out late. “Where exactly are you going?”

“I’ve been... requested to attend the royal gala tonight.”

Vys frowned. “Requested to attend– but the only ones who attend those are the stuck-up, snobby nobility and...  _ wait _ –” Her face lit up in a grin and you almost groaned. “Who exactly  _ requested _ that you attend the gala?”

A’denla’s eyes widened as you sighed deeply. “The King has requested my presence, Vys. That is why I’m going. Will you two please watch the shop?” 

Your sister nodded mutely and Vys just began to cackle. Sighing again, you left the two of them sitting in the backroom, walking back to the front and seeing Cara still waiting for you. 

“You ready?”

Nodding, you followed Cara out of the store, wondering what  _ exactly _ you were getting yourself into. 

* * *

“I– I– I’m supposed to wear  _ that _ ?”

Your jaw dropped as Fennec unzipped the garment bag, revealing an absolutely  _ stunning _ off the shoulder dress, made out of a shimmering silver fabric. The skirt was floor-length, flowing out from the high waist. The thick straps were meant to frame the shoulders, with the fabric crisscrossing in the middle, a style meant to enhance the bust. 

“Try it on.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but both Cara and Fennec shushed you, with Fennec pushing the dress into your hands and Cara shoving you towards the screen in the corner. 

Huffing, you stumbled behind the screen, staring down at the shimmering fabric in your hands. Hanging the dress, you began to strip out of your own clothes, folding them and setting them on the small table to the side. You quickly realized you wouldn’t be able to wear your bra, and after a long moment of deliberation, you set it aside as well. Standing in just your panties, you shimmied into the dress, running your hands over the silky fabric as it settled over your hips. 

Looking into the mirror, you realized you’d missed something about the dress. There was a long slit up one side, slightly to the front, going practically all the way up to your hip. 

As you twisted back and forth, you realized you’d be unable to wear the panties you currently had on. Yours were nothing special, more for comfort than style, but they would show when you walked in the dress.

“Um, Cara? Fennec?”

You bit your lip nervously as Cara responded. “Is everything alright? Does it fit?”

“I– I can’t wear my underwear with this dress!” You called out, feeling your cheeks heat slightly. “I– This isn’t going to work, okay?”

“Just take them off!”

Your eyes widened. Already you felt awkward without your bra, but without your panties too? “I can’t go to a  _ gala _ without any underwear on, Cara!”

She muttered something, and Fennec laughed before she spoke louder. “Yes, you can!” She called, still chuckling. “The dress covers things, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Heart racing, you slowly slipped your underwear down your legs, stepping out of them and folding them neatly, placing them with your other clothes. You smoothed down the dress down once more before stepping out from behind the screen.

Cara and Fennec both looked at you, and to your surprise, they both began to smile genuine smiles. 

“You look  _ stunning _ ,” Fennec offered, and you looked down, unfamiliar warmth bubbling in your stomach. Cara quickly agreed, stepping forward and gently arranging your sleeves, and smoothing down your hair. 

Fennec pulled out a pair of silver heels, placing them down so you can step into them. You’ve only worn shoes like these twice, at your brother's and then your sister’s wedding, and you hope to the Maker that you won’t fall on your face. 

“Din isn’t going to know what hit him,” Cara muttered, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You told yourself not to get excited. Even though he’d requested you come, he would probably be too busy to see you much. 

“Have fun,” Fennec said as Cara began to lead you out of the room. You nodded weakly, nerves beginning to fill your gut.  _ Maker _ what were you  _ thinking _ ? You didn’t belong here, in this gorgeous dress, walking these opulent hallways. 

Cara nudged you gently. “Hey. You  _ do _ look stunning. Din wanted you to come, and I know he can’t wait to see you.” 

You looked over at her, sure your nerves were showing on your face. “I don’t  _ belong _ here, Cara. I don’t fit in.” 

She just smiled. “Neither does he.”

There was no more time to argue as you came up to a large set of double doors, the sounds of many people talking and laughing accompanied by the soft strands of lively music clear even through the closed doors. 

“Are you ready?”

“ _ No _ ,” you whispered, but Cara just smiled reassuringly, and pushed the doors open anyway. 

The ballroom was  _ huge _ , with high glass ceilings and tall marble pillars. There were tables  _ filled _ with more food than you’d ever seen in your life, and hundreds of guests, all dressed in outfits that probably cost more than you’d ever spent on your  _ entire _ wardrobe. 

A couple of people looked over at your entrance, but for the most part, you were ignored, which you were grateful for. You felt extremely uncomfortable, so the less scrutiny the better. Cara thankfully didn’t leave your side, leading you through the throngs of people towards the front of the room.

As you made your way through the crowds, your breath caught in your throat as you saw Din. He was seated on his throne, lounging, really, as his helmet slowly scanned the room. His thighs were spread wide, gloved hands resting on the carved armrests of his throne. There was a group of important-looking men in opulent robes standing to the side, and they appeared to be trying to talk to Din, although he didn’t seem to be paying them much attention.

You could tell when he saw you, his reaction was immediate. He sat up in his seat, his hands moving to rest on his spread thighs. His helmet was trained on your form as you and Cara moved ever closer. Your heart rate began to speed up as you felt his gaze rake over your body, even though you couldn’t see his eyes.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you and Cara reached the throne. Cara stood at your side as you slowly curtseyed, a soft “ _ My King _ ,” leaving your lips as you were acutely aware of the curious stares of the three men standing beside the throne. 

When your eyes rose back up to look at Din, he deliberately looked you up and down, before holding one hand out to you. Sucking in a breath, you carefully placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you forward so that you were standing directly in front of him. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmured, his hand dropping yours only to wrap around your waist, and easily pull you onto his lap. Eyes wide, your hands landed against his cuirass as he pulled you to sit sideways, your legs draped over both of his. One gloved hand was heavy and warm on your hip, the other slipping through the slit of your dress to rest on your thigh.

Your cheeks grew almost unbearably hot at his blatant display of possessiveness, and you looked down at your lap, biting your lip in embarrassment. You could  _ feel _ the eyes on you, surely wondering who the girl in the King’s lap was. 

“You look beautiful.” Your head jerked to look up into Din’s visor, smiling shyly. His thumb slowly stroked back and forth against your side, and he leaned his helmet forward to rest against your forehead in a keldabe kiss. “I’m glad you came.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “As if I could resist a direct invitation from the  _ king _ himself.” 

Din’s hands drew you closer, and even though you couldn’t see it, he was frowning under his helmet. “Darling, you know you didn’t  _ have _ –” 

You nodded, already knowing what he was going to say. “I know I didn’t  _ have _ to come.” You smirked slightly. “Cara can be persuasive when she wants to be.”

Din chuckled. “I’m glad.” He leans back, bringing you to partially lay against his chest. “This  _ gala _ is much more bearable with you here, darling.” He sighed deeply. “They’re usually rather dull.”

You had a hard time believing that, with the lively music still playing and the dozens of couples dancing, but you supposed if you had to attend such functions over and over, they’d grow dull for you too.

As he was talking, Din’s hand was slowly stroking higher and higher up your thigh, his fingers gently massaging your skin. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you, and as his hand rested high on your upper thigh, his thumb stroked over the crease of your hip, before pausing suddenly. 

Belatedly, you remembered you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“ _ Darling _ –?” Din whispered, his hand tightening on your waist nearly to the point of bruising. “ _ A–Are you– _ ?”

Biting your lip, you nodded imperceptibly, feeling gooseflesh rise on your skin as Din let out a low growl. He stood abruptly, easily setting you onto your feet before he began to leave the ballroom, tugging you alongside him.

“D–Din, where are we–?” You were confused at his reaction, and you heard the whispers start up as he practically dragged you from the room. He refused to answer your stuttered questions, quickly striding down an empty hallway. He stopped suddenly in front of a door, and you almost fell into him, unsteady on your heels. 

He jerked the door open, pulling you inside and shutting the door behind you, plunging you both into near-darkness. Blinking, you tried to adjust to the sudden lighting changes when you heard a hiss, followed by a metallic thunk. You faintly realized Din had taken his helmet off as you were suddenly crowded against the wall, one of Din’s hands pressing into your stomach to keep you still as his other hand came up to cup your neck. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face. 

“ _ You come to my gala, wearing the dress I bought you, so fucking gorgeous _ ,” he rasped, pressing his body into yours. “ _ And then I find you’re not wearing any underwear _ ?” He groaned, as if in pain. “ _ Do you have any idea what you do to me, darling _ ?”

Everywhere he touched you, your skin  _ burned _ . Your breath hitched as Din’s hand cupped your breast over the fabric of your dress, his thumb pressing gently against your rapidly hardening nipple. His other hand was hot against your neck, and his thumb gently pressed up on your chin, tilting your head up. 

“ _ I want to kiss you, darling, _ ” he whispered, and you felt your heart  _ stop _ . “ _ Can I kiss you _ ?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” you whispered back, and immediately, his lips were on yours.

_ Maker, _ you’d never imagined it could be so wonderful. 

His lips were soft, at first just pressing lightly against yours. He moved slowly, letting you learn  _ how _ . He coaxed your mouth open, his tongue running along your lower lip before dipping into your mouth to taste you. As his tongue glides along yours, you let out a soft whimper, fingers clenched in the fabric covering his shoulders. 

Din’s thumb slowly brushed over your nipple, and you whimpered again. You felt him smirk against your lips as he did it again, over and over as more helpless little noises fell from your lips. 

His hand left your breast for a moment before you felt him tugging the fabric covering you down, exposing your top half. His lips left yours for a brief moment as his hands cupped both of your breasts, his face tilting down to watch your heaving chest as he teased your nipples. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,  _ you’re gorgeous _ ,” he murmurs, tweaking your nipples unexpectedly and watching as you cry out, back arching at the sensation. “ _ You’re a temptress, darling. You haunt my dreams. I can’t stop thinking about you _ .” His mouth descended on yours a second time.

This kiss wasn’t the soft, innocent brushing of lips from before. No, the kiss from before was a picture-perfect first kiss, everything you’d imagined when you were younger. But  _ this _ kiss was different. This was desperate, intense, the kind of kiss lovers would share. 

Din tweaked your nipples again, and when your mouth inevitably opened under his in yet another whimper, he took advantage and plunged his tongue into your mouth. He stole your breath, slanting his mouth over yours as his hands left your breast to grip your hips, pulling you against him. One hand slid around to anchor at the small of your back, as the other slipped into the slit of your dress. 

Hand heavy on your thigh, he pulled away from your lips. “ _ I want to touch you, darling girl. Wanna make you feel good _ .” You could barely see his eyes in the darkness, but you could  _ feel _ the weight of his gaze. “ _ Will you let me touch you _ ?”

A soft gasp left your lips as he brushed his lips over yours, and he crowded you even further against the wall. 

“ _ Please, touch me, Din _ ,” you whispered against his mouth, and you felt his lips twitch up in a smirk before his hand moved from your hip to cup between your thighs.

You whimpered softly at the first swipe of his rough fingers through your soaked folds. Your head fell back to rest against the wall as his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, steady circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“ _ Fuck, darling _ ,” Din groaned, drawing your skirt to the side so he could watch his fingers working between your thighs. “ _ You’re soaked for me, aren’t you _ ?” You nodded, whimpering again as Din flicked your clit. You were  _ embarrassingly _ wet, and the obscene sounds from Din rubbing your clit filled the small closet. 

Din could feel your muscles beginning to tense, and he leaned in close to growl in your ear. “ _ Does it feel good? Are you going to come for me, darling _ ?” His finger moved faster over your clit, and you gasped as he placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point, before sucking a bruise into the skin there,  _ branding _ you. 

You were shocked at how quickly Din was able to bring you to the peak, and before you were really aware of what was happening, you were falling apart in his arms. You kept thinking you were going to wake up, that surely this must all be a dream, and that you were going to find yourself in your bed back in the village any second. Instead, Din didn’t stop, or even slow down, and continued circling your clit, pulling back from the hickies he was leaving on your neck to brush his lips over yours as he praised you.

“ _ That’s it, darling girl, take what you need from me. Good girl, look at you, so pretty with my fingers buried in your cunt _ .” 

Quickly finding yourself at the peak of another orgasm, you scrabbled desperately at Din’s shoulders as he held you up while he relentlessly rubbed your clit. Your breath was stolen from your lungs as you came a second time, legs shaking and trembling as you fought to stay upright. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, crashing like the tumultuous swells of Kamino’s ocean. 

The closet was dark, but you swore you could see stars as Din finally left your poor, abused clit alone, only to slowly slide a thick finger inside your fluttering walls. 

Your mouth fell open as Din worked his finger inside your cunt. His hands were so much bigger than your own, and you’d never  _ actually _ fingered yourself, always too scared to try. But  _ oh, _ it felt incredible. 

“ _ Fuck, darling _ ,” Din moaned, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear, the rasp of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “ _ You’re so wet, so tight. Does that feel good _ ?” 

“ _ Mhm _ ,” you whimpered, clutching at Din’s biceps as he worked in another finger. “ _ F–Feels really good– _ fuck!” A loud curse abruptly left your lips as Din placed his thumb on your clit, which was still sensitive from your previous orgasms. 

Din smirked, his mouth still pressed against your ear. “ _ Shh, darling. Do you want everyone to know you’re letting your king finger you in a hallway closet _ ?”

You felt your walls clench at the thought of being discovered, and Din made a low choking noise as he felt your reaction. He began to pump his fingers faster, and with every press of fingers deeper inside you, his thumb rubbed at your clit. 

“ _ You like that, don’t you? The idea that anyone could walk by and find us in here? See how pretty you look, how wet you are with my fingers buried in your cunt? You’re gorgeous, darling, so fucking gorgeous _ .”

With every word that fell from his lips, he pumped his fingers faster, until his fingers began to brush up against this one spot that caused your breath to hitch. Din clearly knew once he’d found that spot, as he began to repeatedly brush up against it, causing you to tremble in his arms. 

To your shock, you felt that pressure building again in your core. “ _ D–D–Din, I’m–ohhh fuck–I’m gonna come _ –!” 

“ _ Yeah _ ?” Din whispered in your ear. “ _ Good _ .”

He pressed his fingers against that spot deep inside you, and with a sharp cry, you fell apart in in his arms, coming all over his fingers. Your legs were shaking, and you clutched desperately at Din’s arms as you tried to stay upright through the intense pleasure. 

Din slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy, and you felt your cheeks warm at the obscene sound. You watched, eyes wide, as Din wrapped his lips around his fingers that were covered in your essence, sucking them into his mouth and cleaning them off. He smirked at you, grin widening when he saw how flustered you were. 

He cupped your face, and pressed his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. When you opened up to him, Din moaned, pressing even further against you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper. 

You’re not sure how long you’re pressed against that wall in the closet, with Din’s lips against yours, but when he finally pulls away, you feel  _ thoroughly  _ ravished, and you’re sure you look it. 

Din helps you to rearrange your clothes to look somewhat presentable, and he leads you out of the closet and back into the hallway, his helmet clutched in one hand. He’s looking at you with an unreadable look in his eyes before he suddenly reaches out and cups your cheek. 

“You should stay,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “I want you to stay.”

A soft huff left your lips and you smiled sadly. “I can’t just up and leave my family, Din. I have a job, responsibilities.”

Din groaned, leaning his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Will you at least think about it? Please?” 

You hesitated, somewhat surprised by the naked desperation in his tone. Before you could think too much about it, you agreed. “I’ll think about it, my king.” 

A lopsided smirk made its way onto Din’s face, and he suddenly pressed his lips gently to yours once more. You tilted your head up and kissed him back for just a moment before pulling away. 

“You can’t keep kissing me to convince me to stay.”

“I can try, can’t I?”

* * *

When Din made his way back into the ballroom, Cara saw immediately that he was alone. She strode over from where she’d been leaning against the wall, watching as he slumped over on his throne.

“Don’t tell me you scared the poor girl off, Din.”

His helmet jerked over to face her, and he slumped further in his seat. “I didn’t scare her,” he muttered, sounding remarkably like a petulant child. “I asked her to stay, but she said she needed to think about it.”

Cara frowned. “What  _ exactly _ did you ask her, Din?”

She could read the confusion radiating off of him. “Just that. If she’d stay.” 

Groaning, Cara punched him in the shoulder. “Din Djarin, you go after that girl right now and officially request to court her. You’re far too old to be beating around the bush like this, and something tells me she’s not gonna easily believe that the  _ King of Mandalore _ wishes to court her without you  _ expressly _ asking her.”

Din sat there, stunned for a moment, before another punch from Cara got him on his feet, and moving once more for the door. Cara shook her head at his retreating figure. Din had been alone for far too long, and she would be damned if he managed to let you slip through his fingers. 

* * *

Din pulled up not far from your house in his speeder, his hands clammy under his leather gloves.  _ Maker _ , he shouldn’t be this nervous.

As he shut the speeder off, he was surprised to hear muffled yelling. It took him a moment, but he quickly realized the yelling was coming from your home. He quickly strode towards your home when the front door flew open with a  _ bang _ ! He watched, stunned, as you were violently shoved out of the home, falling to your hands and knees on the dirt in front of him. There was a bright red mark on your cheek, along with a cut that was bleeding, and it looked as though you’d been slapped by someone wearing sharp jewelry. 

Your  _ buir _ followed you out, still screaming obscenities. Din’s mouth  _ dropped _ under his helmet at the vitriol spewing from the woman’s mouth.

“ _ YOU’RE NOT WELCOME IN MY HOME, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING SLUT! WHORING YOURSELF OUT TO WHOEVER SHOWS YOU AN OUNCE OF ATTENTION, MAKER YOU DISGUST ME! YOU’RE PATHETIC AND A WASTE OF SPACE! YOU’RE THE REASON MY HUSBAND IS DEAD, AND I’M TIRED OF PRETENDING OTHERWISE. IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU, HE’D STILL BE HERE! I WISH YOU WERE  _ **_DEAD_ ** _!” _

Your buir threw you one last disgusted look before moving back inside, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t seem to notice him, or maybe she just didn’t care. 

Din was more concerned with you, however, and he quickly fell to his knees, pulling you up and into his arms. You were  _ sobbing _ , and he cradled you against his chest, rocking you back and forth as he tried to see if you were hurt anywhere else. 

He carefully brushed your hair away from the mark on your face, and that’s when you realized just who was comforting you. He grunted as you threw your arms around his neck, and he quickly removed his helmet so that you could press your face into his neck comfortably. 

Din murmured soft nothings into your hair, wondering just how your _own_ _buir_ could say such horrid things to you. Eventually, you calmed enough that your sobs were now merely soft whimpers. 

Before he could say anything, you looked up at him, red eyes and a heartbroken look on your face. “I don’t wanna be here, please Din, take me away,” you begged, and Din didn’t have it in his heart to say no. 

“I can take you to a friend’s or–” 

He barely got the beginning of his sentence out before you began shaking violently in his arms. “No, nonono, don’t leave,  _ please _ .”

Din brought your face back to rest against his shoulder, and he began to rock you gently again. 

“I won’t leave you, darling. I promise. I won’t leave you.”


	4. Tell Me It'll Be Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The emotional wounds left by harsh words always take longer to heal than physical ones. Especially when inflicted by family.

Din strode into the west wing of the palace, which housed not only his private quarters, but the private quarters of his closest allies. The wing was off limits to regular visitors, and Din was sure his advisors would throw  _ quite _ the fit if they knew he was bringing you here, but he didn’t care. You needed him, and he was going to do whatever was necessary to keep you safe. 

You’d fallen asleep on the ride back to the palace, the emotional upheaval from your  _ buir’s _ hurtful screams and the revelation that your father had died to keep you safe proving too much for you to process. Even in sleep, your brow was creased and the soft whimpers that escaped your lips broke Din’s heart. 

He had you cradled in his arms, your head resting on his chest as he strode down the hall, nearly crashing into Cara. She opened her mouth, likely to make some sarcastic remark, but as soon as she saw the tear tracks on your cheeks and the furious set of Din’s jaw, her mouth snapped shut. 

“ _ I’ll explain later, _ ” Din whispered, and Cara just nodded, watching as he continued down the hall, towards his rooms. 

Din stopped just short of the doors leading to his quarters, debating. As much as he’d love to bring you inside and let you rest in his bed, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. He wasn’t even sure you’d want to see him when you woke up, so he decided that the adjoining rooms would have to do. 

Technically, there were separate bedchambers for the King and Queen, although the Queen’s chambers were rarely used, as the King and Queen of Mandalore more often than not shared a single bedchamber. But not all marriages were loving, and so separate quarters were sometimes needed. For now, they would serve his purposes. 

It gave you your own private space, but it was close enough that if you needed him, he could easily get to you. Entering the rooms, he quickly crossed the foyer and into the bedroom, setting you down gently on the bed.

The movement jolted you awake, and for a moment, you looked around, confused. He could see the moment you remembered the events of the night, and once again your eyes began to fill with tears. 

Kneeling in front of you, he took your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks as he encouraged you to look at him. 

“ _ You’re safe here, my darling, _ ” he whispered, his heart thumping painfully in his chest at the way you tentatively wrapped your hands around his wrists, as though you weren’t quite sure if you were awake or dreaming. “ _ It’s alright _ .”

He gently guided you to lay down, pulling the covers up over your trembling limbs. You looked so small amongst the pillows and blankets, and it took every ounce of his self-control to not march back to your home right that instant and demand answers from your  _ buir _ . 

How could she treat you this way? How dare she  _ blame _ you for your father’s death? Didn’t she see you were the kindest soul he’d ever met, with the sweetest heart and the strength of a warrior? 

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your forehead, reluctantly pulling away after a moment. “ _Sleep,_ _darling. I’ll be here when you wake_.”

He watched as you gave a tired nod, your eyes slowly sliding shut. He waited for your breathing to even out before he reluctantly left. He needed to inform Cara of what had happened, and ensure that you wouldn’t be disturbed, for as long as you wished. 

* * *

“Miss?”

You looked over at the doorway as a young maid came in, carrying a bin with freshly laundered sheets. 

“May I?”

You nodded, turning back to gaze out the window, drawing your legs up onto the soft cushion you were seated on and wrapping your arms around your knees. The view was gorgeous, but you couldn’t bring yourself to find any beauty in the sprawling gardens and clear blue skies. 

You’d spent hours sitting in this window seat, lost in your thoughts. You’d turned Din away every time he came to see you, and you felt  _ awful _ , but you just... you couldn’t face him, not now. 

It had been about a week since the gala, the fight with your  _ buir _ , being thrown out of your home. Much of the week passed in a blur of tears and sorrow, the crushing weight of grief settling on your chest like a mountain of beskar. You barely remembered your father, your  _ buir _ , and you’d been kept in the dark about his death. Your mother had always claimed it was too painful to speak of. Now, you guess you knew why. 

Your only company had been the maids who brought you food to eat and clothes to wear, changing out your dirty laundry and sheets every few days. Din had informed you once that your sister and Vys had come to see you, but you’d turned them all away. You were ashamed,  _ mortified _ , and you couldn’t even face your sister and closest friend, let alone the man you’d begun to fall for. 

You knew Din would come running if you called, but every time you opened your mouth, your throat would seize and you’d be unable to speak. You heard your mother’s voice in your head, calling you a  _ whore _ and a  _ slut _ , screaming about how you were useless, a waste of space, not worth the dirt on her shoes. 

Resting your chin on your knees, you felt tears begin to once more roll down your cheeks. Your very  _ soul _ hurt, and you knew there were no remedies you could mix, no medicines you could procure that would fix the cracks growing in your heart. 

* * *

“How is she?”

Din looked up from the paperwork in front of him at the sound of Boba’s voice, seeing the older bounty hunter leaning against the doorway, hands resting on his utility belt. 

Din sighed, slumping over in his seat as he rubbed his tired eyes. This week had been difficult for him, but he couldn’t imagine how much harder it was for you.

“I don’t know. She’s refused to see anyone, not even her sister or her friend from the village. She’s eating little, but at least it’s better than nothing.” 

Boba pushed himself off the doorway and sunk into one of the chairs opposite Din, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Did her sister give any explanation?”

Shaking his head, Din sighed again. “No. Her  _ buir _ refuses to speak of it, and apparently the sister wasn’t home.” Din looked helplessly at Boba. “How do I help her? I can hear her crying at night, but I know she doesn’t want me there. What do I  _ do _ ?”

Boba shook his head in fond exasperation. “It’s not that she doesn’t want you there,  _ vod _ . The poor girl is probably embarrassed. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Smiling, Din crossed his arms. “Who knew the great Lord Fett was so in tune with his sensitive side?” He was truly grateful for Boba’s insight, but he knew he didn’t have to say so. 

“Careful,  _ vod’ika _ . I can still kick your  _ shebs _ .” 

* * *

“ _ No! _ ” 

The scream left your lips as you shot up in bed, cheeks wet with tears and chest heaving. You weren’t thinking clearly when you yanked the covers back and stumbled out of the bed, dressed only in a baggy tunic and soft pair of loose leggings. 

Your hand was on the doorknob before you even realized you’d taken a step, and as you stumbled weakly into the hallway, you saw Cara running towards you. 

She gripped your upper arms, looking you up and down, checking for visible signs of injury. When she didn’t see anything, she was about to ask what had happened when you clutched the front of her armor, voice shaking.

“ _Cara!_ –” You gasped, heart racing. “I _need_ Din, _please_ _Cara_ –” 

You probably looked like a right mess, but you weren’t thinking clearly, all you knew was that you wanted Din, you  _ needed _ him, right now–

“Come on, sweetheart,” Cara murmured, gently tugging you along as she led you down the hallway, half supporting you as you struggled to stay upright on shaky legs. “He’s not far, I’ve got you.”

She wasn’t wrong, and in mere seconds, she was pushing open the doors to the throne room. Din was seated on the throne, speaking in low tones to Fennec when he looked up at your arrival. 

Brief happiness flashed across his features before he realized the state you were in. He stood up quickly, worry clear in the crease of his brow. Before he had the chance to descend off the dais, you broke free of Cara’s hold and stumbled forward, straight into his open arms.

You began to sob as his arms quickly closed around you, pulling you with him as he sat back down on his throne, pulling you into his lap. He tucked your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping his arms more fully around you. 

His grip was firm, grounding you as decades worth of pain, hurt and loneliness finally overcame you. His lips were pressed into your hair, and the rise and fall of his chest beneath your palms helped to calm your racing heart.

“ _ I’m here, my darling _ ,” he whispered into your hair. “ _ I’m right here. Just take deep breaths sweet girl _ .” 

You attempted to follow his directions, pressing your palm firmly against his chest as you tried to match your shaky breaths with his slow, deep ones. 

“ _ That’s it, good girl. Just breathe, my darling _ .” His big, warm hand rubbed circles on your back, his other hand wrapped around your thigh, fingers spread wide as he held you tightly. “ _ My beautiful girl, you’re doing so well. You’re safe with me, I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you ever again _ .”

Slowly, gradually, your breathing began to match Din’s. You slowly stopped trembling, your tense muscles relaxing the longer Din held you. The last time you remembered being held like this was back when your father was still alive, when you were only a little girl. 

There was a silence that settled over the room, but it wasn’t heavy or oppressive. You felt completely safe encircled in Din’s arms, a sense of safety you’d been missing for much of your life. He was patient too, not forcing you to speak before you were ready.

“I’m sorry–”

“ _ No _ .”

Din cut you off gently, one hand coming to curl underneath your chin, carefully lifting your head so he can look you in the eyes. 

“You have  _ nothing _ , not a  _ thing _ to be sorry for sweet girl. You owe me no explanations, no justifications.”

You bit your lip, feeling flustered under Din’s intense gaze, but unable to look away. The love he held for you was clear in his eyes, and you felt undeserving of such adoration. 

As though he could read your mind, he pressed his forehead against yours in a keldabe kiss, his hand coming up to cup the side of your neck as he cradled you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

“If I could take away all the hurt you’ve suffered over the years, please know I would do so  _ in a heartbeat _ . You’ve such a  _ kind _ soul, my darling  _ cyar’ika _ . I hate to see you in such pain and anguish.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you took a moment to bask in the purity of his love. No matter how undeserving you felt, his sincerity was unquestionable. 

“ _ I don’t deserve you, Din Djarin _ .”

He made a pained noise at your fearful whisper, and he gently nudged his nose against yours, his lips mere millimeters from your own. 

“ _ It is I that does not deserve you, my darling. I am a selfish man, and I’ve done many things I regret. I should be strong enough to stay away so that I don’t taint your pure heart, but I’m not _ .  _ I’m not strong enough. _ ” The desperation in his voice shook your very core. “ _ I wish to court you, my darling girl. If you’ll have me, I would make you my Queen _ .”

Your breath hitched, and you swear your heart stopped beating. You could feel Din tense beneath your palm, as though bracing himself for your rejection. You  _ should _ reject him, you were not the kind of woman who was meant to be Queen, but–

“ _ I should say no _ ,” You whispered back, tightening your fingers in the fabric of Din’s shirt. “ _ But I’m not strong enough to resist you. _ ”

You closed the tiny gap, pressing a soft kiss to Din’s lips. You cupped his cheek, sighing as he used the hand on your back to press even closer to him, as though he could mold your body to his. 

This kiss was different than any of the others you’d shared. This wasn’t a kiss borne of lust and passion. This kiss was  _ tender _ , soft and sweet and loving. Every slide of Din’s lips against yours sent sparks down your spine, every brush of his fingertips over your skin caused your heart to skip a beat. 

“ _ My darling, my beloved, my future Queen _ ,” Din whispered against your mouth. “ _ Future mother of my children, keeper of my heart. I _ –” 

He seemed unable to come up with the right words, instead choosing to press more sweet kisses against your lips. The love and adoration in every kiss made you dizzy and breathless, although you were reluctant to pull away to refill your lungs. 

Din was just as reluctant to pull away, and so he didn’t. You spent what felt like hours seated on his lap, his arms tight around you as he happily memorized the taste and feel of your lips, the way you whimpered and moaned softly under his tender ministrations. 

* * *

You lay in your too-large bed later that night, fingertips gently running over your swollen lips as you remembered the way Din stole the air from your lungs and seemed to breathe life into you at the same time. You’d never felt so treasured, so loved. 

For the first time in nearly a week, you weren’t crying yourself to sleep, and you felt lighter than you had in awhile. Din had assured you that you’d be able to stay in the palace for as long as you needed, and even though you knew that you had to face your  _ buir _ eventually, you wouldn’t have to face her alone. 

As you began to drift off to sleep, you heard a muffled noise. Your eyes blinked back open, and you slowly sat up, looking around to see if you could identify what had made the strange noise. 

You heard it again, and you realized it was coming from behind the wall that your bed was pressed against. You knew that your room shared a wall with Din’s, and you felt worry flutter up in your chest that he might be hurt, or that something might be wrong.

As you held your breath, trying to see if the noise was repeated a third time, you heard something unexpected. Your  _ name _ . 

You carefully slid off the bed, creeping over to the door that would let you into Din’s room. As your hand barely brushed the round knob, Din’s voice filtered through the surprisingly thin walls, and you felt your eyes widen. 

He was _moaning_ _your_ _name._

You felt your cheeks begin to warm. Maybe it wasn’t what you thought, maybe it was–

“Oh  _ kriffing hells,  _ darling girl–” His voice sounded  _ wrecked _ , and you faintly realized the muffled noises you were hearing was the sound of Din  _ pleasuring _ himself. To thoughts of  _ you _ .

Well,  _ fuck _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on over and interact with me on tumblr, @bitchin-beskar!!!

**Author's Note:**

> hi all!!
> 
> please enjoy my king!din au!! I'm much more active on tumblr @bitchin-beskar, but I'm trying to post more of my works on here!! come on over and say hi, I have a much more extensive masterlist with a lot more stories, as well as a separate masterlist just for royal affairs!! I've got inspiration, hc's, and more over there, so feel free to come check it out!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading my story as much as I enjoy writing it!!!


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